#1 - Beginnings

#1 - Beginnings

#1; Beginnings

Gerard hated beginnings. Endings he could deal with, sure, the bit in the middle was the best, because it was at that point a routine, but beginnings - no. Everything was so awkward, because he'd never done it before. Which made him look like a fool.
Gerard particularly hated beginnings that involved actual spoken words to other human beings. It was fair to say he wasn't the most sociable of people, and to start something where he had to talk to people, no matter how exciting, was a terrifying prospect.

"Mikey," he whined for the seventh time. His younger brother raised one eyebrow.

"What?"

"I can't do it."

"Gerard," Mikey sighed exasperatedly. "You'll be fine. Relax."

"But Mikes, I can't drive!"

"Hence why you're getting lessons."

"Oh, fuck you!" Gerard muttered.

"C'mon," Mikey coaxed softly. "Calm down. He'll be here soon." Gerard was about to protest that Mikey should have said he or she will be here - hello, sexism - when the doorbell rang, and he froze.

"Hide me."

"Gerard, how old are you exactly? Two, or twenty-two?"

"Gerard!" his mother hollered down the stairs to his dingy basement. "Your instructor's here."

Fuck. There was no way out of it now. With a gentle reassuring shove from Mikey, he stumbled ungracefully up the basement staircase, blinking owlishly as his eyes adjusted to the bright light in the hallway upstairs. When his vision focused clearly, he saw a very small, but very cute man standing in front of him. He looked nothing like he'd envisioned his instructor to look like - he had tattoos curling up his arms and fuck, was that one on his neck? - but hell, he was hot. His hazel eyes were raking up and down Gerard's body, full lips twitching in a smile as he did so. His tanned face was framed by jet black hair, and fuck, he had a lip ring.

"Good taste," the instructor remarked, nodding at Gerard's Smashing Pumpkins shirt. Gerard flushed, partly because he'd just been complimented by the hottest guy he'd ever laid eyes on and partly because said hot guy also had the hottest voice Gerard had ever heard. It was smooth without being gravelly, it was soft without being silky-velvety-creepy...wow.

"Ready to drive?" the instructor asked, throwing the keys to Gerard, who fumbled for a moment but managed to (sort of) catch them.

"N-not really," Gerard admitted, and his instructor cracked a smile.

"Everyone's nervous first time, dude," he said, making to step outside. "It's nothing unusual."

"I bet I run over a grandmother, or a goat or something," Gerard muttered, following the hot instructor out and clicking the door shut behind him.

"How many goats have you seen in Jersey?" his instructor replied, which startled Gerard, because he wasn't used to people listening to what he said. However, before he could make even more of a spectacle of himself, the instructor gestured at the car nearest to them.

"I trust you know how a car key works," he smirked at Gerard, who blushed furiously, attempting to press the button with un-cooperative, fumbling fingers. Eventually he managed it, slipping into the driver's seat with a relieved sigh.

"You're Gerard Arthur Way, am I right?" the instructor asked, pulling out a clipboard. Gerard nodded dumbly, not trusting his mouth if he opened it.

"I'm Frank," the guy said, smiling warmly at Gerard. "Please try not to kill me. It would be very inconvenient." Gerard smiled a little at that, nodding again.

"Right then, Gee. Is it okay if I call you that? I'm too lazy to say Gerard," Frank rambled, jotting things down on his clipboard.

"S-sure," Gerard stammered. Only Mikey had ever called him Gee before, yet this exceedingly hot but still complete stranger could use the nickname too?

"Okay, Gee, you know the neighbourhood pretty well, I hope?" Frank asked. Gerard nodded. "Okay, how about we take a quick drive around the neighbourhood then?" Frank suggested, twisting to put his seatbelt on. Gerard did the same, then placed his hands on the steering wheel, staring intently at the road ahead.

"You can start driving," Frank said after a few moments of silence, and Gerard realised with horror that he'd just sat there, unmoving, staring at the tarmac.

"S-sorry," he apologised, blushing, before pressing down hard on the accelerator. The car jerked forward terrifyingly, and Gerard squealed, although Frank remained completely calm.

"Try again." Gerard did, pressing down more tentatively this time, and the car rolled down the driveway smoothly.

"Take a right here," Frank instructed, squinting out of the window slightly. The afternoon sun was slightly blinding Gerard, so soon he was squinting too. His knuckles were deathly white from clenching the steering wheel, and his brow was furrowed. He needed to do this. Tentatively, he took his foot off the accelerator and onto the clutch - and the car stalled.

"What did I do?" Gerard asked, staring at the wheel in disbelief. He hadn't even managed to turn one corner yet. Frank smiled.

"I told you to relax," he chided gently. "You shouldn't put your foot on the clutch for that long - it stops the engine so that you can change the gear, so obviously if you hold it down, the engine'll stop and you'll stall." Gerard had managed to tear his eyes away from Frank's lip ring long enough to absorb most of what he was saying - most - and he nodded, waiting for his instruction to start up the car again.

"Aren't you going to drive?" Frank asked after a few moments, twisting in his seat to look out of the back window.

"Isn't that what side mirrors are for?" Gerard said, before blushing deeply as he realised what he said. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"Gee," Frank reassured him. "It's fine." Gerard was still blushing, and decided the best way to stop that was to drive.

"Right turn," Frank reminded him, and Gerard nodded, concentrating hard on the tarmac. When he got close enough, he indicated, waited five seconds and then turned.
"That was good!" Frank exclaimed. "Let's try something a bit harder."
-
And so, with the exercises getting progressively harder, Gerard found himself on the biggest road in his neighbourhood two hours later. Frank had said he'd be fine, and in an act of reassurance, had undone his seatbelt.

"The plan is just to drive down here," Frank had said, leaving out the information that he was talking about the road with two roundabouts. Gerard didn't do roundabouts.

"I don't do roundabouts," he'd informed Frank, but Frank hadn't listened.

"You do now," he'd dismissed it, and pressed the accelerator for Gerard, who'd shrieked.

"I can't," Gerard moaned, as he saw the first looming in the distance. Okay, it wasn't so much looming as making-a-slight-shadow, but looming was a more dramatic word.

"You can," Frank said, scribbling more notes on his clipboard. He'd been scribbling all day - Gerard was dying to see what he'd written. His mind provided him with many different ideas, some more colourful than others. He certainly didn't dwell on those ones.

"Gee!" he heard suddenly, pulling him out of his pleasant daydream. There was an old lady crossing the road, and he was heading full-pelt for her, oh shit!

"Holy fuck!" Gerard screamed, slamming on the break pedal so hard Frank was jerked backwards then sideways half onto Gerard's lap. The car screeched to a halt a mere foot away from the woman, and Gerard breathed a sigh of relief, shaking from the adrenaline.

"That'll teach you to wear a seatbelt," he said to Frank, who stared up at him and giggled. He sat back up straight again and searched around a moment, his movements becoming increasingly frantic.

"Where's my clipboard?" he asked. Gerard shrugged - before noticing it by his accelerator. He fished it out and looked at Frank, who gave him a warning look.

"No, Gee," he said, making grabby hands. "Gimme." Gerard sighed and handed him the clipboard back, but as he did so, a piece of paper fell out. Frank made to snatch it, but Gerard was too fast.

"Jet black hair," he read. "Perfect nose. Beautiful eyes. Gorgeous eyelashes. Adorable smile." He looked over at Frank, who was a deep shade of crimson. "Did you take any proper notes?" Frank scoffed.

"I wouldn't be in this job if I didn't," he said, once again launching himself at Gerard for the paper. Gerard held it out of his way.

"All in all, a very beautiful guy...d-do you really t-think this?" he asked Frank, suddenly shy.
Frank slid back into his seat, as if he wished it would swallow him whole.

"And if I did?" Gerard took a deep breath. He'd never done this before. It was a bold move for a fatass like him.

"T-then I'd have to tell you I think the same about you."